Crescent Moon
by AmericanHero36
Summary: Join us as we take a look at the past of Tennessee Valley Railroad's own EMD E8A: Southern 6914
1. Chapter 1

**New Moon:**

_Chattanooga Tennessee, June 13, 2014:_

In the East Chattanooga end of the Tennessee Valley Railroad Museum on a cool Wednesday afternoon, a 2008 Ford Fusion pulls into the gravel parking lot and came to a complete stop. The driver stepped out from her car and brought out a large notebook and a good ball point pen, she had been invited by the museum to interview one of their engines. But it was not the one that you would expect, Sarah, Southern Railway Ms 2-8-2 number 4501 may still be inside being put back together as part of her restoration for Norfolk Southern's 21st Century Steam program, but this woman reporter for the Chattanooga Times Free Press, the local newspaper that is often viewed as "too liberal for personal taste" by most people in town, is here to interview one of the classic diesels that the museum owns. She walked over to Soule shops and noticed Sarge, the former U.S. Army 2-8-0 number 610 sleeping silently with Victoria, former Kentucky and Tennessee 2-8-2 number 10 right behind him. As to not disturb these engines, she carefully stepped on the rails they sat on instead of the gravel that always crunched with each step. Of course, once she got to the concrete of the building's foundation, the loud sound of a L&amp;N 6-chime whistle broke the silence. It was Cassidy, former Southern railway Ks-1 2-8-0 number 630, who finished the summer season of main line excursions from Chattanooga to Oneida and back. She was pulling the Missionary Ridge Local, but she still looked a little tired from her return trip home despite it being nearly a week since she did it. The woman smiled as she watched the lots of children exit the train and Cassidy pull onto the turn table. After that, she stepped inside and came up to one of shop workers.

"Excuse me, but which one of these guys am I supposed to interview?" She asked. An young man with black hair, rounded facial cheeks, brown eyes, and black hair that was styled into a spike at the top of his forehead, looked up from sanding Sarah's sand dome and addressed her.

"You mean Larry? He's right there." He pointed to a rusty EMD E8A that sat in the back corner of the building, sleeping away as his restoration crawls along. The woman carefully walked around Sarah and other various debris until she was able to set up a chair in front of the diesel.

"Excuse me, Larry, is it?" She asked. The A-unit spluttered himself awake to find the young woman in front of him with a pen and notebook.

"Oh, Hi there, I guess you're the lady who's here to ask me some questions?" He asked with a squeaky voice, pretty uncommon for an engine from Southern.

"Yep, I'm Bethany Garner of the local paper. Many people seem to go goo-goo-ga when they see a steam engine, but we're approaching that time where classic engines like yourself are starting to get some love, particularly from rail fans and people of the older generations." The woman replied.

"Yeah, I know that story, but I don't believe my generation of diesel deserves the love we are now starting to get."

"Why is that?"

"Well, particularly in the early days, diesels weren't exactly the nicest thing on the planet, allow me to explain, early on diesels treated steam like useless scrap metal, and for a short time I believed it to be true, but then I saw something horrible and it still haunts me to this day. But let me start at the beginning." 

_Atlanta Georgia, December 28, 1953:_

A brand new EMD E8 slowly opened his eyes in the Inman Yard in downtown Atlanta as the sun was beginning to rise over the snow covered city. He looked around to observe his environment to find that despite the fact that the sky was a beautiful bright orange and it gleamed off the snow like diamonds. it was still very busy. With new F units locking up to freshly arranged set of freight cars and others rolling in with new ones to be sent to other places. It was like a fantasy land. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a man clear his throat, the man before him was a young man, late twenties at best, with dirty blonde hair, blue overalls, and brown eyes.

"Hello, I am E8 number 10912. I have been built by General Motor's Electro Motive Division in LaGrange Illinois." He began in a strange monotone voice. "I am the ninth of an order of ten E8s for the Southern Railway, their second order. My road number is 6914 and with the duty of hauling passenger trains along the Southeastern United States. I am obligated to keep the high standards of the Southern and EMD as well."

"Gee, uh, that's great and all, but what is your name? Like with letters and such?" the driver asked. He had been warned by veteran drivers that EMD tended to make their engines robotic and creepy at first with no personality whatsoever. The diesel paused; he had no idea how to answer the man's question. He opened his mouth to try to come up with one, but no name came to mind. How embarrassing this is, EMD never programmed him with a personality. Oh sure, they taught him the important stuff like what he was and what his purpose was, but nothing else.

"Don't worry." Laughed the driver. " I've got one for you already, Larry."

"Larry?" the diesel asked, confused.

"Yeah, that's what you shall be known as. Hell it's gotta be better than… one…oh…nine…something rather or sixty nine fourteen."

"Oh, uh, okay then." Larry replied, still unsure of all this. He shivered as he felt his driver's cold hands grab on to the handrails, curse this weather, why did it have to be so cold?

"I know Larry, I hate the cold too." The driver laughed as he closed the door behind him into the cab. Larry smiled when he heard the roar of his motors, pretty soon they will provide him with warmth. "By the way Larry, my name's Steven."

"Steven? It's nice to meet you." Larry responded happily. Despite the cold weather and wind, it felt great to be alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Palm Atlanta: **

_Atlanta Georgia, December 28, 1953: _

The sights and sounds of Inman yard were overwhelming for Larry. Everywhere he looked there were engines of various railroads. One of them stood out from the rest, it was an E8 and she looked almost exactly like him, from the green and white paint right down to her golden "Southern" lettering, except she had a strange number: 2923. Steven looked ahead and spotted the diesel in question.

"That's your sister, Tammy." He said. "She will be leading you on the Royal Palm today."

Tammy was talking to another engine this one had a more slanted nose, obviously an earlier model of EMD's E units, but which one? Larry couldn't quite put his couple on it; she had to be at the latest an E6. Anyway she was purple with a big silver stripe along the side along with the words "Atlantic Coast Line. At the front corner of her side read "The Champion" and the number was 501. Tammy turned her gaze from the older engine to him and her green eyes glowed in the sunlight as she grew a big smile.

"Oh there he is! This is my little brother Joyce, he just arrived today." She said happily. The purple engine in question looked to her side and watched Larry roll up beside her.

"Uh…hi…" Larry said shyly.

The other engine smiled. "Why hello there kiddo, what's your name?"

"Uh…um…my name is…SIXTY-NINE-FOURTEEN!"

Inside the cab, Steven slapped his hand to his face. Tammy and Joyce on the other hand flat out laughed at the response. Larry was embarrassed at himself, he bit his lip and looked shamefully at the rails he stood upon. Even _after_, the two ladies with him had stopped laughing.

"Oh don't be so sensitive little brother." Tammy said.

"Yeah, we ain't laughing at you." Joyce added. "Your response was just too funny."

Larry perked up, letting off a sheepish grin.

"There you go." Tammy encouraged. "Oh in case you don't know, I'm Tammy and this is Joyce. She's an E3 for the Atlantic Coast Line."

"Hello…again." Joyce grinned. Larry gained his composure and introduced himself.

"My driver calls me Larry."

"Larry?" Tammy asked confused. "Well, I suppose it'll work. After all, I've been told that all C.N.O.T.P. E8A names start with the letter L."

"C.N.O.T.P.?" Larry asked. "What's that?"

Tammy smiled.

"That's a subsidiary of the Southern, the Cincinnati, New Orleans, Texas, and Pacific railroad." Joyce answered. "They're owned by the city of Cincinnati but the Southern has leased their trackage for years. And thus, you have a ninety nine percent Southern appearance, but you have CNOTP numbering and a small set of letters on your backside."

"Oh! I get it." Larry beamed.

"And that's why you'll be running the Royal Palm with me today instead of the Crescent Limited. You need to get familiar with your own tracks before you learn Southern lines." Tammy added. She then began to reverse; Larry felt his controls shift to follow.

"Bye Joyce."

"See ya Larry."

Tammy led Larry to Atlanta's Terminal Station, where there were several trains waited to depart. Tammy was switched over to another track and stopped, but Larry kept moving forward, rolling right into a green baggage car. He almost wailed for Steven to stop, until he felt his brake come hard on and he gently coupled up to the train in front of him.

"Tammy will lead up to Chattanooga, then you will lead the rest of the way." Steven told him. This led to a relieved sigh from Larry. He was starting to think that he would have to pull the train himself, and backwards no less. After that he felt his rear coupler lock up with presumably Tammy's who gave a short horn blast. Not long afterwards, another horn sounded out. Larry watched as sleek, chrome passenger cars backed in beside him, until he saw a white diesel, an EMD E7 to be exact, with a red stripe along her side. Her road name read "Seaboard" and her number was 3027. The diesel looked over to Larry and gave a small, shy smile. Larry smiled in return, that is, until he heard a pair of voices, one of which belonged to Tammy.

"Well, well, well, Tammy, fancy meeting you here at this time. Did you stick around to admit that your Southerner is going to fall to the Silver Comet?"

"Not even in your dreams Isabella." Tammy snapped angrily.

"Oh really? Then why are you on the Palm today?" Isabella, who was also a Seaboard E7 number 3025 taunted. "Are you too embarrassed to tell me that your line has dropped the train already in defeat?"

"No, I'm showing Larry here the C.N.O.T.P., the newbie's gotta learn it somehow." Tammy retorted.

"Ohoo, a shiny eh? Ingrid, remember not to talk to the animals, even the puppies." Isabella chortled rudely.

"I-I guess that means she shouldn't talk to y-you." Larry suddenly chimed in. Tammy burst out laughing, Isabella grew red in the face with rage, how dare this brand new E8 insult her like that? Especially since he's part of a subsidiary railroad, and not a full Southern engine like his sister. Ingrid on the other hand grinned at Larry and mouthed a "thank you" to him as the conductor signaled for the Royal Palm to leave. As he pulled away, Larry began to feel very pleased with himself, and it seemed that he had gotten onto Tammy's good side. In the cab Steven was chuckling to himself as well. He knew how egotistical Isabella was and it was refreshing to have someone at least try to bring her down to earth. So far so good for Larry, next stop: Chattanooga.


	3. Chapter 3

**Palm Chattanooga:**

The trip from Atlanta to Chattanooga took nearly four hours. And in that time span Larry noticed that the snow became less like a blanket and more like soap suds in a shower.

"Hey Tammy, what's going on with the white stuff?" He asked.

"You mean the snow?" Tammy replied. "Since it's getting warmer out here the snow is melting. It's common around here for snow to not last long."

"Why is the snow melting?"

"Because snow is really drops of water frozen into ice crystals as it falls from the sky. When ice gets warm, it melts into water, and when it gets very hot, it becomes steam." Steven explained.

"And steam is the ancient way of motive power on the railroad; you and I are the very things that make them completely obsolete." Tammy added.

"There's only one steam engine left on Southern's roster, a Ps-4 class passenger engine named Scarlet." Steven said.

"Oh… neato." Larry replied.

Not long after the conversation, the train rolled into a massive yard, there was activity _everywhere _that Larry could look. On one side he could see Southern switchers arranging the yard, and on the other side he could see an EMD F7A quickly hauling a main train out of the yard. The diesels where white and light blue, on their sides Larry managed to read "N.C.&amp;St.L".

"That is the Dixie Line, the Nashville, Chattanooga, and St. Louis railway." Tammy explained.

"Oh… do you know who that guy was?" Larry asked.

"Not really."

Nothing more was said as the pair gently rolled past the yard to a wye backed the train into Terminal Station. While backing in Larry could see parts of downtown and he was disgusted. The city was filthy with dirt, grime, soot, smog, and what was left of any snow. You see back in those days Chattanooga was literally the dirtiest city in the United States, even more so than the likes of Pittsburg, New York City, and Los Angeles.

"People actually live in this town?" He asked.

"This is an industrial town Larry, it's going to be filthy." Tammy retorted. Suddenly, a deep whistle sounded off. "And here's one of the other reasons why this place needs a serious cleanup crew."

Larry watched with interest as a slew of sleek, chrome coaches were backed in beside him. They looked so much better than the Pullmans he and his sister were pulling in his opinion. He then heard Tammy speak out in the same taunting voice that Isabella gave her.

"Well, if it isn't the only steam engine on the Southern. Hi there Scarlett, are you still sore about that Texas boy kiss'n a J class?"

There was no response from the engine. Her fireman on the other hand shook his fist at Steven and Larry's conductor while he shouted choice words that nobody should repeat at them for talking to Scarlet like that.

"Oh don't be so sensitive, I was just curious." Tammy replied innocently. "After all, we engines must look out for each other."

"Just leave me alone please, I don't wanna talk about it. Scarlett finally said sadly. "Especially not with a cold hearted diesel like yourself and your kin."

Deep down Larry felt a little sorry for Scarlett. It must not be easy to be the last steam engine on the railroad. Steven on the other hand was not going to have any of Tammy's behavior, so he stepped down from her cab and walked to a phone booth. He returned quite soon.

"Tammy, I've got good news for you. You don't have to show Larry the rest of the way to Cincinnati, he'll make it just fine." He said.

"**Yes!**"

"…And some bad news for you, you'll be hauling the Tennessean while Miss Scarlett here shows Larry the rest of the route." Steven continued, annoyed about the brief interruption.

"**What!?** But why? I can do a much better job than this cowboy lover." Tammy protested.

"Because of your behavior, so if you don't stop you'll be doing some shunting work in Norfolk for a week. And that's coming from Mr. Debutts himself." Steven warned. Tammy angrily clammed up after that, she hated shunting and in Norfolk, Virginia of all places, where Norfolk and Western steamers were everywhere. Steven then turned to Larry.

"Are you okay with Miss Scarlett leading for the rest of the journey?" He asked. "I know you've been looking forward to leading the train the rest of the way up."

"Yes sir. I think I'll live." Larry replied. That was not exactly the answer Steven was looking for, but it was better than what he expected. He then turned to Scarlett, who had a small smile on her face.

"Do you mind taking this train and showing Larry here the rest of the route of the Royal Palm?"

"I don't mind at all kind Sir. I'd be happy to." Scarlett replied, despite her crew grumbling about how cold it was going to be up in Cincinnati. Tammy was uncoupled from Larry and moved to Citico Yard to be refueled while Scarlet puffed on ahead and was switched onto Larry's track. All the while, Larry still had no idea what Scarlett looked like, but her voice was beautiful, her whistle was beautiful, even her chuff was lovely to him. _This isn't so bad, maybe I'll get to have another friend when this is all over. _ He thought to himself. Scarlett blew her whistle again after the conductor signaled the go ahead. Larry felt a strong pull and he quickly began to help. Although, he had a feeling that Scarlett didn't really need the assistance.

"Thank you for doing this Miss Scarlett, and I'm really sorry about what my sister said." He told her. For a while Scarlett said nothing. It wasn't until they approached the bridge that crossed the Tennessee River towards Knoxville when she finally replied.

"You're welcome."


	4. Chapter 4

**Palm Cincinnati: **

There was only one stop between Chattanooga, Tennessee and Cincinnati, Ohio: Lexington, Kentucky. And it was dark seeing how it was winter and year-round Daylight Savings time had been in effect for eleven years now. It was 6:50 PM Eastern Standard Time and Larry was in need of some fuel. He was grateful for the stop, and he could tell Scarlett was too when they disconnected and ran by the nearby yard for refuel and cleaning. As the crews performed their routine maintenance, Larry saw Scarlett tense up when her driver told her something softly.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"We're in the Rat Hole division." Scarlett replied. "And I declare that it's gonna be a tight fit for me in some areas."

"Why?"

"There are tunnels all over the place, they severely limited Southern's steam fleet." Scarlett explained.

"Is that why they dieselized? Because we are small enough for this division?" Larry asked. He was unaware of how hurtful those words could be to steam engines or even diesels in the right context.

"Well, I declare that it's part of the reason." Scarlett said. Of course she knew that wasn't the only reason. She knew that Larry was more powerful than even the Ts-1 mountain types that the Southern owned. In fact, he was more powerful than almost everything that was on Southern's steam roster. Seeing how the railroad couldn't afford "super powered" steam locomotives such as the likes of the Norfolk and Western or Union Pacific, she wasn't surprised. But that didn't mean she had to like it, or him for that matter. Yet somehow, she did like Larry, or at least a little bit. So far he was one of the few post-war passenger diesels that were nice to her. Although Scarlett will admit this fact to someone she loves, she knew it would not be a good idea to say it to a diesel whether they were brand new or not. Larry didn't push the issue any further as he was backed into the train. Scarlett followed soon after, and eventually they set out again.

Scarlett was correct about the Rat-Hole division of the C.N.O. &amp; T.P. There were tunnels everywhere, both daylighted and non-daylighted. Each of them proved to be tight, and soggy, and the weather became colder and the snow around them became deeper. Larry asked Scarlett why that was and she told him that the farther north one goes, the colder the climate gets. Nowhere was this truer than when the two engines finally made it into Cincinnati. It was cold, windy, and there was snow fall everywhere Larry looked. Immediately he did not like this place and it didn't help that the place was absolutely hectic so he didn't even get a chance to say "hello" to somebody. To make matters worse, he found that there were no practical roofs when the train was backed in Cincinnati Union Terminal. The wind seemed to pick up as did the snow to make life even more miserable for the two engines.

"W-w-w-what k-k-k-k-kind of s-sick, t-twisted, lunatic w-w-w-would wanna c-c-c-come out h-h-here?" Larry shivered. His answer came in the form of a loud, high pitched whistle. Right next to them backed in a slew of Tuscan red coaches and the sound of chuffing. Larry watched in bewilderment as a steam engine, an odd looking one, stopped right next to Scarlett ahead. Much like Scarlett, it was a pacific type, but aside from that the two engines looked vastly different. As well as he could, given the angle and the weather, Larry read the road name on the engine's tender: Pennsylvania.

"Why Miss Scarlett, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" The engine asked.

"Just show'n this new diesel here his home rails Hank. I declare that I took over for Tammy after she ran her dang mouth at me." Scarlett replied.

"Hi." Larry peeped out.

"Well, hello to you uh…" The engine replied.

"Larry."

"Larry, my name's Hank, I'm a Pennsylvania railroad K4 and this train is called The Cincinnati Limited." Hank replied again.

"You're late." Scarlett said flatly.

"Hey! It wasn't my fault, I had to wait for them to clear the tracks at New York, and it's a mess out there." Hank protested. Scarlett giggled at his frustration amidst her will to get out of the weather and into a warm, dry shed. Larry felt his rear coupler unlock and he quickly tooted his horn as a signal that the two engines can move away now. Neither Hank, nor Scarlett responded they just puffed away to a shed, chatting with one another. Larry was hurt by this, what did he do to Miss Scarlett for her to just ignore him? Steven gently patted the side of the cab and gently opened the regulator. It didn't take long for him to catch up to the two steam engines, and in doing so he managed to listen in on their conversation.

"So how are the electric engines Hank?" Scarlett asked.

"Oh they are doing great, and still about as friendly and kind as Miss Gwen. Speaking of which, how is she? Do you know?" Hank asked. Larry had heard of Gwen, she was a General Motors EMD FT model diesel locomotive, the demonstrator to be exact. She was basically the Sturbridge Lion of the diesel locomotive. Larry had been told before he left LaGrange, Illinois that Gwen now worked for the Southern so it was possible that he would get a chance to meet her.

"I declare that I hear she is well, and working hard wherever the line sends her." Scarlett replied.

"Is Gwen out here tonight?" Larry asked, butting into the conversation.

"I don't think so, last I heard she was in New Orleans." Scarlett replied.

"Oh…"

The three engines proceeded to a nearby roundhouse that contained mostly Pennsy engines with three Baltimore and Ohio steamers, one New York Central steam engine who was getting along quite well with the others, a Chesapeake and Ohio Berkshire, and two Norfolk and Western J class engines. There were two stalls available in the roundhouse and it was clear that Scarlett should get one of them out of common curtesy. Hank and Larry looked at each other for a moment while Scarlett was being turned around before Larry shouted out loud.

"I call the other stall!"

"Oh come on Larry, I've been running around in the freezing cold all day." Hank protested.

"Well you should have been faster to the draw." Larry teased and he raced ahead to the turntable as Scarlett backed off of it and into the roundhouse. Larry stopped and awaited excitedly as the table turned to face his track, but when it did, one of the two J class steamers surged forward onto it as a means to block him. Larry looked at her in a confused manner as she glared at him bitterly.

"Uh, excuse me." Larry peeped up after what seemed like an eternity. "But would you mind backing up please? I-uh, called the last stall."

"Yes, I would mind and I do." The engine replied, maintaining her bitter glare. "You can sleep in the diesel yard over yonder."

"Yeah Barf Boy! Don't you know that this roundhouse is for steam engines only?" A Pennsylvania M1a mountain added.

"Molly! He's with me!" Scarlett protested, but her cries fell on deaf ears.

"We don't want no disgusting diesel on our roundhouse, go on! Get outta here!" One of the B&amp;O engines added harshly.

"B-but, I-I called that stall." Larry whimpered. He was met with harsh replies, loud whistles, and mean name calling. He could see Scarlett trying to calm the crowd but her efforts were in vain. The names "Motor Brain", "Dieseasel", and "Tiny Drivers" struck him all at once and each one of them as hurtful as the last, but he didn't know how to respond to any of them. Finally, Larry honked his horn long and loud and spoke up afterwards when the crowd quieted down enough to hear him.

"Alright, I'm leaving." He said. "All I wanted was a warm place to sleep tonight."

And with that, Larry reversed away quickly towards the diesel yard. He could hear boos and more name calling in the process.

_Chattanooga: 2014 _

"Wait a minute, with the way you're telling this story it's as if the steam engines deserved to be scrapped!" Bethany interrupted.

"I knew you were going to say that, and you had a good reason to." Larry replied. "They were mean to me and I was really hurt by it. But what I didn't understand at first was that they had already lost so many of their family and friends to engines like me and the end was close upon them as well…They had every right to be angry at me and my kind and I appreciate the ones that didn't try to be hurtful to me."

Over on the other track, Sarah had been listening in on the interview. She felt awful about the way Larry was treated. Oh how she wished Southern waited a few years before selling her to the K&amp;T so that she could be the one to take him under her wings so to speak. She would gladly have given up her stall for Larry if she were there that night.

"So what happened when you reached the diesel yard?" Bethany asked.

"A blizzard was on its way, so when I was parked and shut down…"

_Cincinnati: 1953 _

"…You're leaving me here? Alone?" Larry asked, shocked at the news that Steven had given him.

"Yes Larry, I have to before the blizzard hits and telephone my wife at a hotel." Steven replied softly. He didn't want to leave Larry, not after what happened at the roundhouse. But he had no choice in the matter. "I'll be back in the morning and you'll be headed back to Georgia faster than a jack rabbit with its tail on fire, how does that sound?"

"But, I don't wanna be alone in the cold." Larry protested, with tears finally forming in his eyes.

"You're not alone Larry, look around you. There are diesels everywhere around here, all going through the same pain you are. Maybe you can make a friend tonight." And with that, Steven walked away, shivering in the cold as he went. Larry sighed; he looked around with the hope that none of them would notice him.

"Hey, Shiny." Came a voice. So much for not being noticed; Larry looked around to find who was calling for him until he saw a diesel that looked very similar to him. The diesel in front had the exact paint style as Larry had except his was black instead of green, the number boards stuck out like bulges, and this one had a grey box for a face. It was very unusual for an American diesel to have such a face. He was numbered 4213 as well.

"Y-yes?" Larry asked.

"I couldn't help but notice how much of a commotion dat you caused at da smoke head's house." The diesel spoke, he had a very strange high pitch voice, like the kind that the New York Central steamer had.

"I didn't mean to-"

"Let me finish!" the diesel burst out. "Dey cursed you out over a nice warm stall in dat place? Dat's not right, and dey ought to be ashamed of demselves. Well don't worry about it, dey'll be gone in no time and we diesels will run the lines all by ourselves."

"What makes you so sure? And what's with your voice? You sound like that New Yorker back there." Larry replied.

"I think I was initially built to go to da New Jersey Central, but somehow ended up as part of de Southern. Name's Joe by da way, I'm an EMD F7."

"Larry, EMD E8." Larry replied.

"For da C.N.O.T.P.?" Joe asked, as he observed Larry's number.

"Yeah."

"Thought so, and I'm sure that dem steam engines will be gone in da next few years because of you and I. We're efficient, cleaner, and cheaper to operate. And with growing competition from airliners and roads, you and I will keep da railroad afloat and competitive for a long time to come. Steam engines are outdated hunks of junk who won't accept dat dere time is almost up and dus, dey will fight us to da end." Joe continued. "Remember dat, and you won't be hurt by dem anymore…"


	5. Chapter 5

**Palm Jacksonville: **

Larry forced his tired eye open amidst the cold weather that surrounded him. Everywhere he looked had a thick and soft blanket of snow. It looked very pretty, even when it was thrown up in the air by snowplows pushed by engines in an attempt to clear the lines. He could hear some of the diesels shivering and muttering amongst themselves.

"D-d-damn those s-s-smo-smo-smoke heads." One said in a quiet anger. "I-I c-c-c-can't w-w-wait for their en-en-end, th-th-then we'll…g-g-get the warm roundhouses."

Part of Larry wished the same as Joe's words from the night before flooded back into his brain, but then again he remembered Scarlett. How she tried to take him in the roundhouse with her and defend his name. Larry wondered what she did after he was chased away by that…monster...if that was the right word to describe the Norfolk and Western J class engine that led the other steamers against him. What had he done to her? Why did she have to be so mean to him? All he did was call the last stall of the roundhouse. Once again, Joe's words flooded back into Larry's brain.

"_Steam engines are outdated hunks of junk who won't accept dat dere time is almost up and dus, dey will fight us to da end."_

_If that's true, then why did Scarlett of all engines defend me? As the last steamer in the Southern, wouldn't she be incredibly resistant towards me?_ Larry thought. _Is she just a really kind engine or is she playing a very sick joke on me?_ _But if that's true, then why not join that crowd and reveal it?_ Larry decided that he was going to ask Scarlett once the two of them got together again to take the Royal Palm home. Provided that they could get out of Cincinnati together, and while these questions lurked in his head. Suddenly, he heard the roar of his motor come to life.

"Sorry I'm late Larry, I had a hard time getting out of the hotel." Steven said as he popped out the cab window. Larry didn't reply, he was still a little upset about being left behind by his driver overnight in the cold.

" 'Ey, don't worry about it." Larry looked over in surprise to find Joe giving a small smile. "Engineers leave deir engines all da time to go home, even da smoke heads get left behind."

"Well, I guess if you say so Joe." Larry replied as Steven backed him out of the yard and towards the station. When they arrived, Larry was relieved to find Scarlett at the platform waiting patiently for him.

"Oh good, you made it." She said as Larry was backed into her to lead the train home. "Listen, I declare that I'm sorry about last night, Molly's not the kind of engine you'd want to be around."

"Yeah, I've noticed…" Larry replied flatly, there was a long pause and then he spoke again. "Listen, I've gotta ask. Why did you try to defend me last night when you could easily resent me? I figured that as the last of…well…you know, that you wou-"

"Excuse me, but I declare that there's no need to hide the truth from me Larry. We both know that I'm the last steam engine on the Southern and you and your siblings are what they got to replace me and my siblings." Scarlett interrupted. "As for why I defended you last night? Because it's just not right for any engine to be treated with the hatred like the kind Molly portrayed. I don't care if the one being treated that way is the most evil, cold hearted, cruel monster on the face of the earth. You just don't treat others that way just because whether he or she is steam, diesel, electric, or man powered."

That greatly contrasted what Joe had told him and now Larry was even more confused by this. The one engine who had the best reason to be resentful is actually the one that is the most accepting. It all made his brain hurt as the train finally departed for Lexington. Another thought entered Larry's mind, that Seaboard Air Line E7, oh…what was her name…Israel? No that's a country. Isabella? No that's her sister, but he was getting close, he could feel it in his circuits.

"INGRID!" Larry blurted out loud.

"My name's not Ingrid you silly." Scarlett giggled.

"No! I mean the name of that Seaboard E7 is Ingrid." Larry replied.

"Oh, that Ingrid, she's a sweet heart you know." Scarlett affirmed. "But a little bit on the timid side."

"You just answered my question, I was gonna ask if you knew her and what was she like and stuff."

"Did you meet her in Atlanta?"

"Yes."

"Get used to seeing her. I declare that you two will meet again, especially if you get to take the Crescent or the Southerner."

This made Larry excited, he thought Ingrid to be so pretty and she seemed to be the nice type. Unlike her sister who as he recalled took great pleasure in angering Tammy about the rivalry between the Silver Comet and the Southerner. This also reminded Larry that she actually did infuriate Tammy and he didn't know the reason for it.

"What about her sister? She made Tammy mad by mockingly claiming that the Silver Comet will outlast the Southerner. Why would she do that?" He asked.

"Rivalries are as old as time itself." Scarlett explained. "Railroads have been compete'n with each other in order to acquire more business and therefore more money. If someone is out to do the same thing that you are, you'll feel the need to surpass them and as such, they will fell the same way about you. Sometimes, a rivalry can be fierce and terrifying for others to watch, like the Pennsy and New York Central for example. That rivalry is so heated that whenever two engines or people from those lines start an argument, everybody runs off because it can get very ugly very fast."

"Oh."

The two engines chatted about various things all the way back to Chattanooga. So much so that larry had completely forgotten about Joe and his words. The snow was fully melted as well which proved to be a welcome sight to Larry after that nightmare trip to Ohio, he still shivered at the thought of it. When the train was backed into Terminal Station Scarlett was moved back onto the Tennessean and Tammy back on the Royal Palm. She said absolutely nothing to green steamer as they passed each other and seeing how obvious it was that she did not want to say anything at all proved that she had learned her lesson for at least a while. Larry told Scarlett goodbye as she pulled the Tennessean out of Chattanooga and onto Memphis.

"Come on Tammy, it couldn't have been _that_ bad." Larry teased.

"Yes it was!" Tammy wined. "There's a hill billy steamer who's incredibly annoying and much too friendly for his own good. I don't know how the hell Madison fell for an engine like that!"  
"Madison?"  
"One of Norfolk and Western's J class bitches, I heard she pushed a diesel into a turntable well. Man, if that happened to me Mister Debutts will scrap me for sure instead of saving me."

"She sounds worse than Molly…" replied Larry, oblivious to the second half of Tammy's statement.  
"Larry, promise me that you will never interact with Norfolk and Western steamers, I don't care how friendly they seem. They are incredibly powerful and will not hesitate to destroy you." Tammy warned.

"Don't worry sis…you don't have to make me promise."

At that moment, Larry, who was leading, heard his horn sound off and his bell ring as he began to pull out of the station.

"So how was Ohio? Did Scarlett bore you with all the outdated days of steam?" Tammy asked.

"Ohio was a nightmare." Larry groaned. "It was cold, snowy, and some of the engines up there are mean."

"Like who?"

Uh, mainly the steamers, and all I did was call the last stall from some Pennsylvania guy in the roundhouse."

"Aw, did those big bad smoke heads hurt your feelings?" Tammy asked in a baby voice.

"Very funny…" Larry snorted.

"I'm serious! I bet Scarlett was the ring leader."

"Actually she was the one engine who tried to defend me, but her pleas fell on deaf ears."

Tammy was surprised to hear those words come from Larry.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's true. You can ask Steven next time he drives you." Larry replied. Tammy couldn't believe what she was hearing, her own brother, protected by Scarlett, after what she had done to the steamer. Larry felt a little shake on his coupler as if Tammy had gone into a trance for a moment. Larry tried to snap her out of it, but for a long while she was completely unresponsive. Tammy remained this way all the way into Atlanta and it wasn't until they reached Macon, Georgia when she finally snapped out of it.  
"What happened?" She asked.  
"You phased out of reality, I've been trying to get your attention the while trip from Chattanooga." Larry replied. His voice sounded dry and worn out, it was clear that he was at it for a while.  
"Where are we now?" Tammy asked.

"Macon."  
"Macon!?"  
"Is there an echo?"

"I'm sorry Larry, I've just been…remembering things."  
"Like what?" Larry became worried for his sister, what could possibly bring Tammy out of reality for so long?

"I'd rather not talk about it little brother… it's too horrible to describe."  
"Are you okay?"  
"Yeah, I am a little tired though." Tammy yawned.  
"Station master told me that you're going to rest here for tonight while someone substitutes you." Larry explained to Tammy's relief and sure enough, a flat horn sounded all around as another Southern E8 rolled up beside them. Larry observed the engine and noticed that he too had CNO&amp;TP numbering: 6913.

"Hi Lamar, how are you?" Tammy asked.  
"Can't complain too much, so this is Larry huh?" Lamar asked. His voice was incredibly deep and surprisingly soothing.

"Yep, fresh from the land of the buckeyes." Tammy laughed.

"Hi." Larry peeped in.

"Hey Larry, it's nice to finally meet you. I'm Lamar and I'll lead the train out to Jacksonville if you don't mind." Lamar replied. The engines were detached from the consist and each other after that and Tammy rolled out to the nearby diesel shed. Obedient to his brother, Larry backed into the train and allowed Lamar to back into him.

"I heard Tammy had a moment where she wasn't even on Earth, is that true?" Lamar asked.  
"Yeah, when I told her about how Scarlett did what she could to stand up for me, she just phased out and didn't return until just before you came in."  
"That long? Wow, I didn't think it had that much effect on her." Lamar added ominously.  
"What had that much of an effect on her?" Larry asked.  
"She didn't tell you? Tammy wrecked a few years ago, and has never been able to fully recover from it. I don't know the details of it, mainly because she refused to tell me. But from what I know it was pretty bad."  
"I see." Larry yawned.  
"I advise that you get some sleep, my engineer can handle your controls from my…" But before Lamar could finish his sentence, he heard snoring from behind. He smiled and quietly pulled ahead into the night. It was dawn when the train pulled into Jacksonville, Florida, 7:30AM to be exact. Larry opened his sleepy eyes and smiled as the gentle Florida breeze brush against one side and the warm sun lay upon him from the other. It felt like a paradise that nobody would wish to leave, even if they had to.

"Oh good, you're awake." Lamar said from in front. "Welcome to Florida."

At this point, Larry finally blinked his eyes completely open. He looked around to find palm trees, buildings, and people everywhere. On one side he could see the coast, where U.S. Navy ships sat around waiting at port to be shipped out overseas, their massive guns proved to be at least a little unsettling to Larry seeing how he had heard many stories from the war that had ended nearly ten years before he was built. He was too busy sightseeing to nice that he was detached from the train and on his way over to the yard but when they had reached it, the sound of a distress woman grabbed his full attention.

"What? What do you mean they've retired her!? She's only ten years old!"

"I'm sorry Joyce, but I'm afraid she's gone, along with his classmates."

"No, nonononono! I can't believe it, she was too sweet for this!"

Larry listened carefully and traced to sound to find Joyce, the Atlantic Coast Line E3 having a conversation with a Seaboard GP7. She looked down right destroyed emotionally, fit to burst with tears.

"I know Joyce, but I'm afraid that didn't matter to her bosses." The Geep told her gravely  
"Are they at least going to put her on display somewhere?" Joyce asked.

"I heard they're going to try to put her sister on display, number 451 I believe, but I'm afraid your friend is going to be scrapped."

The tears streamed down Joyce's face, she sniffed a few times and then Larry was shocked to see her break down and sob loudly.

"Who are they talking about?" Larry asked Lamar quietly.

"I don't know, but I think it's one of Central of Georgia's steamers who apparently had been a very close friend of hers. Poor Joyce, it's not easy to lose a friend." Lamar replied just as quietly. Larry wanted to go and comfort her, but alas, he couldn't, at least not by himself.

"Lamar, can I go over to her please?" He asked. Lamar smiled and quietly complied to his brother's request. Joyce never heard the engines roll up next to her and she nearly jumped when Larry asked her if she was okay.

"No Larry, I'm not. I feel like someone just shot me in the eye." She retorted.

"I uh, overheard your conversation with that geep. Who was it?" Larry asked softly.

"A friend of mind, you didn't get a chance to meet her like I hoped you would but she was a kind engine." Joyce replied, with more tears forming in her eyes. It was very depressing for Larry to see the look on Joyce's face, although he never knew the engine of which she spoke of he felt the same feeling of loss somehow.  
"Is there anything I can do?" He asked.

"Just stay here and be with me Larry. It's all I ask of you." Joyce replied. And so Larry did stay with her, he even refused to move three hours later when he was supposed to take the Royal Palm back to Georgia with Lamar so Southern had to use another E unit to take the train back. Larry knew he would get into trouble for that, but he didn't care, he had to be with Joyce to help her with the pain of loss.


	6. Chapter 6

**Bittersweet Revenge:**

_Between Richmond, Virginia ,and Danville, Virginia, January 17, 1954:_

Larry figured that he would be in trouble for refusing to go with Lamar and take the Royal Palm back to Atlanta about a month in the past but he never expected this. Harry A. Debutts personally flew down to Florida and scolded the E8 severely and then punished him to six months of freight duty in Virginia. He had also been given a new driver, who was a no nonsense kind of man by the name of Don. Despite being a strict man, Don did a great job of keeping Larry in perfect working order and took the extra time to wipe the dirt and grime off at the end of each day of hauling freight. Larry appreciated the fact that he was still given a driver that cared, especially after hearing many stories about how drivers have become less caring for their engines over recent years. He received little sympathy from the F units, they rather gave him the cold shoulder, what with him being a passenger engine on freight duty and all. The GPs, ALCO FAs and Rs' on the other hand tried their best to make Larry's situation as painless as possible. But try as they might, they couldn't be everywhere with him and the spot that he dreaded the most was in Lynchburg. For three reasons: reason one was that the Southern didn't have a direct route to Lynchburg from Richmond so his only option was to go all the way down to Danville, turn around and go up to Lynchburg. Reason two was because the route from Danville to Lynchburg was the route of the Crescent Limited and the Southerner so he would often pass by a sibling and even when they sympathized with him, Larry still felt embarrassed about it. Reason three was the reason Larry dreaded the most, Lynchburg was one of the multiple spots where the Southern met with Norfolk and Western. That wouldn't have been so bad to Larry if it weren't for some of the steam engines from them who always called him "underpowered", "Gnat", or other names if they saw him hauling freight. Molly was always the ring leader of their comments. Larry hated Molly, he hadn't done anything to her and yet she brought so much grief and anger. Oh how he wanted to shove her off a cliff, but Larry knew that he couldn't if he tried for she truly was much stronger and faster than he was on his own. Today, he hoped that he wouldn't run into anybody along the line. He wasn't alone of course for there was a GP7 traveling with him named Darrel, number 2014. Darrel was a kind engine who had a good sense of humor, it was almost impossible to insult him and he always looked for the best in others. This confused Larry to no end and he had to get to the bottom of that and today was his chance to finally do it.

"Darrel?" He asked.

"Hm?" Darrel replied.

"How come when somebody calls you a mean name that you don't look bothered? I've even seen you go along with them and laugh it off."

"That's a question I get asked a lot." Darrel laughed. "I won't lie, it did hurt at first but one day, my driver taught me two things: they're only bringing you down in a bad attempt to hold themselves up on a slippery stack of cards. And pay attention now, this one is crucial: love those who hate you, for it burns them more than biting back. After that the names don't hurt anymore, they just slide off like rain."

"I don't get it." Larry replied confused.

"Don't worry, you will in due time…"

Nothing more was said about the treatment of others as the two engines arrived in Danville and turned to Lynchburg. As Lynchburg get closer and closer, the sense of dread grew bigger and bigger in Larry, why did he refuse direct orders to get back to the Royal Palm and stay back with Joyce? If he had known that he would have to deal with freight in Virginia for six months he would have left when he was asked to and have someone else keep Joyce company. Larry of course didn't think about how selfish a thought like that actually is, all he could think about was the ridiculousness that would come from the Norfolk and Western steam engines that worked in Lynchburg. He hoped that he wouldn't be noticed for once, but when he and Darrel pulled in, his hopes were dashed as an M2 4-8-0 "Mastodon" rushed by whistling hello to the two of them in a relatively annoying sounding single chime whistle.

"So much for that…" Larry groaned.

"What? Did you honestly think that a green E8 would be able to sneak around on a freight train without being noticed?" Darrel laughed. "I know the steamers tend to tease you around here Larry, we all have experienced it one way or another and the ones that don't let it bother them find it easiest to make friends. Heh, at least this one was nice enough to say hi to ya, maybe today won't be so bad."

"I doubt it." Larry replied pessimistically. Eventually the two engines pulled into the yard to release their train and get some rest. _So far, so good…_ Larry thought to himself, he looked around and found that aside from a few switchers the yard was vacant. That was a pretty rare sight, usually there would be somebody pulling out to the main line. It wasn't until he finally backed into a Southern roundhouse that he managed to find anybody, the place was packed with diesels ranging from Alco Rs' to EMD geeps, Fs, and Es. They were all chatting about all sorts of stuff, yet Larry was surprised when he saw one particular F unit sitting around.

"Joe, is that you?" He called out. Joe looked over upon hearing his name being called and smiled as larry backed into the stall next to him.

"Good to see you again Larry, how's da life on da freight business?"

"It stinks, I feel embarrassed anytime I meet one of my siblings, your brothers always give me the cold shoulder, and the N&amp;W steamers are meaner than copperhead snakes." Larry ranted. "I can't believe I'm doing this for six months, that's insane."

"Dat does sound a bit harsh, even for Mister Debutts. Maybe he'll come by later and shorten it." Joe concluded.

"Doubt it, I stayed behind with Joyce after she got the news that a friend of hers was retired, he personally flew all the way to Florida to chew me out."

"Yeah, dat story's all over da system, Miss Joyce's friend was retired at just da wrong time. I heard Mister Debutts was already in a bad mood when news of your defiance reached his office." Joe reassured.

"Makes about as much sense as anything, but what do we do about the N&amp;W steamers? Mister Debutts can't touch them."

"I thought you'd never ask. We have a little surprise for dem see? If you want a little payback on Molly we'll need all da help we can get." Joe whispered as he shifted his eyes around.

"What are you planning on do'n?" Larry asked.

"Molly hates diesels obviously, but I've noticed drough careful observation that she usually chews out a single diesel, never a few of dem see?"

"Ooh, I see Joe, but what if we get caught?"

"We won't because we'll be doing it under da cover of night, and when Molly wakes up tomorrow, she's gonna get a taste of her own medicine see? Whaddaya say Larry? Want some payback?"

Larry looked at the rails to think about the opportunity. He considered Darrel's words about being kind to others and how it burns them internally, but this opportunity for payback was too good to miss, besides, how much harm could it do?

"I'm in."

When night fell, Larry, Joe, and a few other revenge hungry engines quietly rolled out of the roundhouse to go to the Norfolk and Western roundhouse on the other side of Lynchburg. The crisp, cold air somehow felt refreshing to Larry and the night sky was pretty to look at with stars everywhere. With the moon in the new moon phase there wasn't much light to guide them or expose them. Eventually, the roundhouse with a great big N&amp;W logo came into view and the diesels stopped. With careful observation, they found that there were only a few steamers there, two J classes, an A class articulated, and a couple of Y6b class steamers. The diesels all waited patient as they watched the last of them fall asleep.

"Alright, does everyone remember da plan?" Joe asked quietly. Everyone hummed a yes. "Good, now Larry, Molly's in da stall that's conveniently placed directly on da turntable and da track that leads up to it. You will be da first one to couple up to her."

"Yeah sure I- wait, why do I have to be the one to actually touch her?" Larry asked.

"Because you were da last one to join dis little charade, no move quickly and carefully, we need to get it done fast and silent." Joe retorted. Larry gulped and rolled toward the fortress of steam, immediately regretting his decision in the process. But he agreed to come and Don taught him that if you agree to something, you have to go through with it.

_Stupid, I'm stupid I should never have agreed to this._ He thought to himself. He closed his eyes when he rolled onto the turntable and then suddenly, he heard a clank and he stopped. He opened one eye to check to see if anyone was awake, nothing. But when he looked down he silently sighed to himself with relief, he had coupled up to Molly and she was still sleeping soundly. Soon enough, he felt a few bumps from behind as one by one the other diesels coupled up to him and began to pull. Oddly enough, Molly's brakes were never secured to hard-on, and they easily gave way to her movement without a sound. Much to everyone's surprise, Molly was surprisingly light weight on her drivers which made pulling her a lot easily. Nobody stirred or said a word and the group disappeared into the night.

Molly grunted as she tried to force herself to awaken, when she opened her eyes the morning sun glared right into them. Something wasn't right, it felt…cold, and it smelled awful to her. And then she heard some unfamiliar voices.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't Molly, one of the biggest bitches on the Norfolk and Western, she's come to join us for a lovely morning."

Then there came laughter and more voices.

"I figured she had a crush on you Jimmy but I didn't know she wanted you enough to come here in the middle of the night and sleep with ya."

That was when the realization hammered Molly, she wasn't at the N&amp;W roundhouse anymore, she was in the Southern roundhouse, surrounded by diesels, each of them bore a mocking grin or a look of disgust. She gasped loudly and tried to run, but with no steam or driver she couldn't move.

"W-what am I doing here? With all of you underpowered rats, I demand to know!" She boomed.

"Ooooh, looks like somebody thinks she's a tough girl, I think she's just the right woman for you Joe!" Came another voice. None of the voices sounded familiar, except for two.

"Not even in her dreams. I prefer a woman that doesn't talk at all." Joe laughed in his obnoxious New York accent.

"**You!**" Molly scowled. "Get me out here Joe before I rip you to shreds!"

"Threatening engines is an easy way to get retired early Molly." Larry spoke up in a dark tone.

"Ooh, I like dat tone Larry, maybe you should be a move villain." Joe laughed.

"**Shut up! Take me back to my rails!**" Molly shouted.

"Trust me wood burner, we would love to drag your filthy ass out of here and over to a scrap yard where you belong but none of our drivers are around." Larry retorted.

"Scarp yard? Wood burner? Why you little…"

"Aw shaddup fat ass, we's sick and tired of you and your outdated type giving us crap." Joe snapped. Everyone else voiced their agreements loudly. Everyone that is, except for Darrel, who was waiting around at the fueling station. He on the other hand was horrified about the whole situation and as soon as his fuel tank was full he rushed away to do the only thing he knew he could. A little while later, the N&amp;W steam engines were simmering at their roundhouse, they were worried for Molly. The other J class that was stationed there was 611, Madison; her first guess was that Molly had to leave early for an unscheduled train. She was surprised however to find a Southern GP7 rushing towards the roundhouse, he looked quite out of breath.

"Excuse…huh…me….huh…miss. But are you Madison?" He panted as he came to a stop.

"Yeah, what do you want?" Madison scowled.

"I…huh…it's about…huh…your sister…Molly." Darrel replied. Now Madison was intrigued, if this diesel rushed so much to come on her rails with news about her sister, it had to be important.

"Where is she?"

"She needs your help, please, follow me, I will take you to her."

"What happened to my sister? You better tell me right now or else I won't follow you." Madison snapped.

"Miss Madison, please, I'll explain it on the way."

"No, you tell me what's going on right now!"

Darrel looked at Madison and the remaining engines that were in the shed and then he sighed. Meanwhile, the mocking of Molly had gotten out of hand and it was finally getting to her.

"G-grow up you guys!" She protested.

"You first Granny, you brought dis upon yourself!" Joe answered.

"Yeah, why couldn't you age gracefully?" Larry added.

"Your kind never learns! And we have to deal with your crap every day!" One of the switchers shouted from the yard.

"And now da shoe's on da other foot, how does it feel to be brought down to earth?" Joe asked. "Da fall ain't ever going to end sweet heart, steam is dead."

"And we're the executioners!" Added another engine from somewhere in the shed.

"Y-you're all wrong, steam will live on and…"

"And what? You might be better than us on paper, but we are efficient, we save our railroads money while you eat it in your fat fireboxes!" Larry interrupted.

"And to add to dat, we are easy to fix, and most important of all… we don't wreck by going too fast, unlike your class which is known for dat." Joe added.

"Th-those weren't our fault, we get speed demon drivers…" Molly sniffed desperately.

"Sure you do, and I'm the fastest engine in the world." A switcher replied sarcastically.

"And because of that Molly, along with the way you treat us, is the reason why you will be in service for the rest of your short life." Larry added. And before anymore could be said, a deep, loud, threatening whistle shook the ground. All the engines watched as black smoke filled the air to reveal another J class steam engine, and this one was furious. Larry noticed how most of the other diesels finally shut themselves up and back into their stalls in fear, including Joe. He was about to ask what was wrong but a loud booming voice stopped him.

"**Where is my sister?**" The J class shouted.

"Madison! Take me home sister, please." Molly beseeched. Madison gave a worker a venomous look and he quickly ran into the little shack that controlled the turntable. The table turned, but just before it reached Molly, Larry jumped out and jammed it.

"Let's get one thing straight Jay, your sister brought this upon herself. You mess with one of us you mess with all of us…right guys?"

To Larry's surprise, nobody came to his side, he was all alone. Madison smirked in an intimidating way while Larry began to show signs of slight fear.

"It seems that if I mess with one of you, all of you run away like the cowards that you are." Madison spoke up smugly. "Now back off before you end up in a scrap yard."

Larry didn't move, he just looked for others to stand up with him, but all he saw were trembling diesels. Finally he saw Darrel roll up beside Madison, the GP7 mouthed for Larry to just back away. Larry finally gave up, he reversed off of the turntable and it rolled into alignment with both Madison and Molly. Madison puffed onto the turntable, glaring at Larry the entire way. Larry didn't look back at her, he just stared at the rails he stood on in disgust. That is, until he heard faint crying from Molly, he looked up to find a couple of tears streaming down. Larry's disgust turn to guilt, he looked back at the rails again in shame.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again." He said quietly.

"I hope so you green gnat, for your sake." Madison replied and then she pulled Molly out of the roundhouse. "Thank you, for telling me as soon as you could."

"You're welcome." Darrel replied. And when the two steamers has left, he looked over to the other engines in disgust.

"I'm ashamed of you, all of you. If Gwen were here she would disown every single one of you for doing this. I hope you are all happy with yourselves, because you just humiliated yourselves, each other, and the entire Southern Railroad. Now get out of here and get to work before you cause more trouble."

Nobody argued with Darrel, one by one, each of them left for work. All with a grim reminder of what happens when you pull a stunt like what they had pulled today.

* * *

**Let it be known that I do not own Madison, she belongs to Theragingblueflame and Scarlett (previous chapters) belongs to darthmaul90**


	7. Chapter 7

**A Sibling's Bond: **

_Danville, Virginia, January 18, 1954:_

Nobody spoke about the incident at the roundhouse the day before, especially in front of any officials. Larry particularly hoped the whole thing would end up swept under the rug; he'd park himself in a scrap yard long before working freights any longer than he had to. It didn't help that Darrel was still angry enough to ignore the E8 whenever he tried to strike up a conversation or even apologize for the incident. Larry also felt betrayed that none of the other engines stood with him up to Madison, Molly's sister J class number 611. He had to admit in his brain, Madison is far more terrifying than Molly, but he would never say it publicly. Today was an easy train that he was capable of doing himself, it was a mail delivery to Lynchburg. He backed into the station where people were loading the abnormally few RPOs, this did not go unnoticed by Larry, in fact, he was confused by it.

"Is that all there is?" He asked.

" 'Fraid so Larry, we're losing the mail business." Don spoke up from his cab.

"To who?"

His answer came in the form of a truck horn. Larry looked over in shock to find a semi-truck with USPS markings on its trailer. The driver was honking his horn at some goofball in a coupe who had pulled out in front of him. Larry's mouth dropped at this, the railroads were losing the mail to trucks? What madness was this?

"You can't be serious." He said.

"Believe me Larry, I wish I wasn't, them trucker boys are taking over the mail because for some reason the government thinks they are faster." Don told him.

"Hmph, like hell they are, railroads have the shortest and fastest route. Roads are nothing but curves, traffic jams, and 40 mph speed limits." Larry scoffed.

* * *

_Chattanooga, 2014: _

"You believed the roads were like that? Wasn't the interstate system around then?" Bethany asked, confused.

"Everybody knew that losing business to the roads was impossible back then, it was the reality of the time. As for the interstate, we'll get to that later. First let's skip ahead some, right to about a week after I had finished my punishment..."

* * *

_Danville, Virginia, June 5__th__, 1954: _

When Larry completed his sentence from Harry A Debutts, he was ecstatic to return to passenger service. Especially since he learned that he will be pulling the Crescent from Danville to Washington D.C. as a reward for excellent service in the freight department. Darrel, who had forgiven Larry for the incident with Molly, was with him to see him off.

"Darrel, I wanna thank you for working with me for so long, you've really made freight trains worth doing." Larry said.

"You're welcome Larry, we were all happy to keep freight duty as painless as possible...just don't forget to pay the tab." Darrel replied jokingly. Just at that moment, a loud horn blast was heard all around, it was the inbound Crescent and it rolled smoothly into a stop. Once the brakes were set, the lead engine was uncoupled and he rolled ahead to let a fresh Larry take his place.

"I'll see you around Darrel, thanks again." Larry called as he rolled ahead to position and coupled up to the train. The signal turned green, the conductor gave the ready signal, and Larry rolled out of the station with a strong reply from his horn. It didn't take long for Larry to get up to speed, it was night time so he didn't have to worry too much about freight trains slowing him down. He took a gaze over to find a black '52 Ford Crestline Victoria racing on the road that drove parallel to the line, the driver was a young man with his girlfriend. Most likely on their way home from a night out at a college dance. Larry noticed the little car going faster and faster and quickly caught onto the driver's intention.

"Those jokers wanna race eh? **They're on!**" Larry shouted out as he picked up speed, effortlessly catching up and passing the little car. The driver in the car slammed his foot on the gas pedal, the car responded with a roar and raced into the lead. Larry picked up more speed and passed the car. The driver honked his horn a couple of times and received a loud response from Larry's own horn. Suddenly, red lights flashed from behind the car, followed by a siren. Larry burst out laughing and continued on his way as a police car forced the couple to pull over.

"You'll never see a train get pulled over by the cops." Larry told himself. After the victory against the automobile, Larry became very sure of himself. After a quick stop at the station in Lynchburg, he noticed the Norfolk and Western roundhouse where several steam engines were sleeping. He blared his horn loudly as he raced past it, and he laughed as he heard the angry steamers complain about their sleep being ruined in a very rude manner. But then, up ahead, Larry saw Joe at the head of a waiting freight train. Larry remembered how Joe abandoned him so to speak in January. So instead of acknowledging the F-unit, Larry grew a scowl on his face and looked away in an effort to deliver a message. Joe, just gave a pair of toots as the Crescent passed him. Tammy happened to be with Larry in consist for the night, and she remained silent as to not burst Larry's bubble until Joe did it for her somehow.

"So, how was hauling freight?" She asked. "Awful I assume."

"You assume too much, hauling freight wasn't too terribly bad despite the F units giving me the cold shoulder." Larry replied.

"Did they? I'm sorry."

"It's alright, the geeps and RS's did what they could to help."

"Well good, at least there is somebody that cares. Now another thing I wanted to talk to you about was the thing you did in Lynchburg...with the N&amp;W steamers." Tammy said solemnly.

"What about it?" Larry asked, confused.

"Remember what I said about not interacting with them?"

"Oh come on Tammy, blowing your horn at them in the middle of the night doesn't count as interaction." Larry scoffed.

"No, the other thing..." Tammy said ominously. "Did you honestly think that one of your siblings wouldn't see you roaming around in the middle of the night to their shed to kidnap one of the J classes? Lamar saw you while taking the Southerner and he told all of us about it."

Larry was surprised at the news that his entire E8 family knew of his little adventure with Molly.

"B-but, that was Joe's idea, to get back at Molly for being a thorn in everybody's side, especially mine." He protested.

"It doesn't matter Larry, not only did you break your promise to me but you also put your life on the line. We also know about what happened next morning between you and her sister."

"How? Nobody talked about it."

"I'm your sister Larry...I know everything..."

"What?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, what's forty four thousand times five hundred seventy two point four sis seven two three?"

"How is anybody supposed to know that?"

"I thought you knew everything dear sister." Larry teased.

"Alright you big kid..." Tammy laughed. "Just focus on making it to Washington without racing prom dates."

Larry was relieved that the subject about broken promises was so easily forgotten, he didn't know what he would have said if the conversation carried any further. A few hours later, The Crescent pulled into Washington D.C.'s Union Station in a gentle manner. Looking around Larry could find engines from all kinds of railroads, including the Richmond, Fredericksburg, and Potomac who were a subsidiary of the Atlantic Coast Line as evidenced by their paint scheme being very similar to Coast Line's but blue instead of purple, Baltimore and Ohio, Chesapeake and Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Canadian National. The nation's capital proved to be far more massive than Atlanta or Cincinnati, and far more busy. This was overwhelming for Larry, much to the amusement of Tammy who giggled at his wide eyed nerves.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it, just try not to saw anything about the odd look of the Pennsy's GG1 electrics."

"The what?" Larry asked as he looked around for anything strange. Yet he didn't find anything, and Tammy was a little disappointed as she couldn't find what she was looking for either.

"Aw, so much for having a laugh tonight, I love the look my siblings get on their faces whenever they see a GG1 for the first time. They're usually really nice engines though, haven't met a mean one among them so far."

"How would I know if I see one? Do they look the same as us?"

"No Larry, you'll be able to tell when you see one."

After they were uncoupled from the train, the two engines rolled their way to the diesel shed where the majority of the others were dozing off. Larry randomly remembered Lamar telling him that Tammy had wrecked in the past, he had been very curious about the details about it since then.

"Tammy?" He said.

"Hm?" His sister replied.

"What happened with your wreck?"

Tammy suddenly phased into a trance like she did before when the subject was brought up. And just like last time, she was unresponsive to Larry calling for her to snap out of it until finally, he gave up. It wasn't long until after the two loco's engines were shut down for the night and next day for maintenance that Tammy finally broke her trance and fell asleep. Larry soon followed suit. An hour or two later, Larry was stirred awake by the sound of soft crying. He looked over at his sister next to him to find her face soaked from tears. Larry said nothing and simply leaned over as best he could without falling over to try to comfort her. He managed to softly touch Tammy and catch her attention. Without a word, she leaned to him to give a sisterly nuzzle as a means to ask him to just be with her. Larry's plan seemed to work, as Tammy finally stopped crying and smiled to him. It wasn't long before the two engines fell asleep again, but Larry made a mental note to never ask Tammy about her wreck again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Double Trouble:**

_Chattanooga, Tennessee,_ _2014:_

"So how was your first encounter with a GG1? I did a little research on them and they're pretty ugly in my opinion." Bethany asked.

"If you want ugly look at Amtrak's electrics now, I swear those things have the horrible stench of European influence all over it." Larry remarked, drawing a few laughs from a few of the workmen who were still working on Sarah. "But, I will admit, when I first saw a GG1 I was shocked by their appearance. But I'll tell you what, they were the nicest engines that you could ever meet, I don't think they had any real enemies, but I could be wrong about that. Anyway Tammy burst out laughing when she saw my reaction, and Ingrid was really happy to see me back on the Royal Palm or the Crescent."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about her, is she still around?"

Larry's smile fell, he was downcast to talk about it.

"No. Seaboard Coast Line scrapped her when Amtrak came around and took over their passenger trains in '71." He said sadly. "Not a day goes by where I wish it was me and not her, she was too kind for that."

Bethany grew silent for a moment, she knew that it is not easy for anyone to lose someone close to them.

"I'm sorry." She said somberly.

"It's okay Bethany, I'm alright."

"Care to explain your relationship with her?"

Bethany figured she would at least ask, often times the one who lost another to death wouldn't like to talk about it. Larry looked at the rails he stood on, pondering. And then he looked back at the interviewer.

"I will, it's kind of important anyway. We really didn't get to see each other that often until one fateful day in 1956. That's when my words about the auto industry came back and bit me in the face."

* * *

_Atlanta, Georgia, June 29, 1956:_

Larry was at the head of a train called the Peach Queen, a passenger train that went between Washington DC and Atlanta with Lamar and a B-unit along with him. They had just pulled in and were waiting for the new consist to substitute them. Over at the platform somebody was listening to a radio news broadcast when suddenly, breaking news came in.

"_We interrupt this program to bring you a special news bulletin. President Eisenhower has approved the National Interstate and Defense Highways Act earlier today in an effort of preparation of a possible invasion by the Soviet Union. This will be the largest public works project in American history and will be paid by taxes on gasoline and diesel fuel along with toll booths that will be removed once the cost has been covered in the area. This will cut a two month drive across America into five days, and we'll share more information when it becomes available..."_

The engines were shocked at this. They knew Eisenhower had a plan in place since '54 but to see it happen, it was like the world was on the verge of exploding. And the engines all knew who was to blame...

"Damn you Stalin, I hope you get the deepest circle of hell!" Lamar exclaimed angrily.

"Amen!" Larry added. 

Needless to say, they got quite a few unapproving looks from passengers as they walked past the two engines. Not for calling out the most evil man alive, but for the language in public. Suddenly, the Silver Comet rolled into the station. Larry looked over to find Ingrid was the lead engine of the consist, she looked at him with a confused expression. When Larry told her about what he had just heard Ingrid's jaw dropped, she couldn't even speak.

"I know, horrible ain't it?" Larry asked in her silence. Ingrid finally found her voice, she spoke in a nervous tone.

"It's bad enough we have those fliers to deal with, now we have this."

"Yeah."

At that moment, the substitute consist came into view.

"Hup, that's for us. I hate to leave you Ingrid but we're due for servicing." Larry spoke up as he and Lamar began to leave the train.

"Don't worry big boy, some of us have long journeys to do." The Seaboard E7 teased.

"Yeah? I'm supposed to take the Southerner tomorrow from here to DC, wanna race?" Larry asked.

"Sure."

Ingrid wanted until the two E8s were gone before she gave a soft squeal. She had been wanting to hang out with Larry for a long time and now she had her chance. All she had to do was make it back to Atlanta and wait. But what neither she nor Larry counted on, was front office decisions. The next day Larry was woken up to find a man wearing a suit standing in front of him and several other diesels.

"Mister Debutts, what brings you here this morning sir?" Larry asked.

"I have an important announcement to make to everyone. Starting today every engine will have their green changed to black paint. No exceptions, and Larry, you are being repainted today." The man in question replied. The engines were shocked, this came out of the blue, and to make matters worse for Larry, he was supposed to take the Southerner today.

"B-but sir, what about the train I'm supposed to take?" He asked.

"A few of the E6es will take your train today, and you will be put on the southbound Royal Palm when you are done. I'm sure you didn't have any plans to race the Silver Comet today." Debutts answered with a knowingly sinister tone. Larry sighed and looked at the rails he stood on.

"No sir, I didn't." Larry told him. There was no point in arguing with his boss, his mind was made up.

"Good, now get going, the painters are waiting." Debutts ordered. He then went over to tell the others who was next as Don drove Larry out of the shed and over to the paint shop in Inman Yard. Larry was furious, it was bad enough that he would love his lovely green paint for the ever so boring and super cheap black, but on a day when he was supposed to be with Ingrid. Now some old fashioned shovel nosed E6 is going to make a move on her. It didn't help that when he roamed past the parking lot that the shop workers were laughing to each other. It felt like they were laughing at his expense, despite their subjects having nothing to do with his predicament. Larry rolled into the shops and closed his eyes. He cringed at the grinding feeling of being sanded down, for it was an uncomfortable feeling. Why did Debutts decide to do this? Was it out of spite? Or was he really that skinflinted? The grinding went on for what felt like an eternity, suddenly he felt a cold liquid cover up the sanded parts. He know exactly what it was, primer. He braced himself and received more grinding until he could finally feel his base coat being applied for the first time.

_Finally, the worst is over._ He thought to himself. This proved to be true, the rest of the painting process went on without any further pain. Although he did find the baking process that was used to dry his paint was like someone opened the gates of Hell. He was glad when they were finally finished with him later in the afternoon, but then he saw his reflection in a mirror. His style was the same, but instead of the bright, and glamorous green he had black paint in its place. He hated his appearance, now people will mistake him for an F-unit. When he got to the platform, tons of people flocked to see his new appearance, the majority of them seemed to like it okay but the rest agreed that the green was much better. Great, not only is Ingrid probably mad at him, but she is probably going to laugh out of spite.


	9. Chapter 9

**Fireworks [part1]:**

Larry was very embarrassed with himself. His new black paint might have look alright, but he felt like his identity was taken from him. Debutts might as well have put him in the freight service permanently. Did he find out about the Molly situation? Surely not, he was painting every engine black not just Larry. He pulled into Atlanta Terminal station to be the back of the consist, today, he would be happy to only see the dark green baggage car instead of any smug faces made by his siblings. To his surprise, their was no teasing when he felt his back coupler hook up to another.

"Debutts got you too?"

Larry knew who that voice belonged to.

"Hey Tammy, is your paint black already?" He asked. Tammy sighed in disgust.

"Unfortunately so little brother, I thought Debutts loved us. Why paint us a steamer's color? Surely it can't be that much cheaper." She ranted. Larry just hummed an "I don't know" in reply. Before Tammy could continue her rant the signal changed to green and the conductor gave the go ahead to leave.

"At least we're going to Jacksonville, Joyce will understand." Tammy sighed. Needless to say, both engines hoped for a quick run. Luckily for them, that was the case and with the run being at night time, nobody was around to see them in their new look. Or at least it was that way until they reached Jacksonville at 7:30 am EST. The Florida East Coasts "South Wind" was waiting for them at the station and when the Southern units arrived, the red and orange FEC engines burst out laughing.

"What happened to you guys? Did you roll into a tin can factory or something?" The lead engine asked, he was referring to the fact that most automobiles were painted black.

"Very funny sun boy." Tammy retorted. "You've yet to hear what the engines in New Orleans call you I presume."

"Oh yeah? And what would that be?" The FEC engine asked.

"Daylight Wannabes."

That stopped the South Wind engines laughing, instead they grew a subdued scowl.

"We are not, we look nothing like them." Stated the lead.

"Wanna bet?" Larry asked as the Palm came to a stop. "I met an SP E9 not too long ago in New Orleans, there aren't too many differences between your paint and theirs."

The FEC engines said no more as they were set to leave. They left in a hurry when the conductor gave the go ahead and the subject was dropped. Larry and Tammy snickered to each other quietly. A little later, they were at the servicing yard and Joyce understood their disposition quite clearly.

"I will admit it is a bit of a surprise to see it happen out of the blue, but I'm not surprised the railroads are going cheap. I've been told that I will be painted black next year with only yellow pinstripes and silver lettering. So consider yourselves lucky, you still look like Southern engines." She said. She seemed to be rather annoyed with her own disposition. Larry figured that with her it was worse because she had a long waiting period.

"So what about Ingrid, have you talked to her about it?" Joyce continued.

"No, I didn't get a chance to, now she probably thinks I'm the biggest jerk in the world." Larry replied downcast.

"Nah, she's too understanding for that, just talk to her, you'll see."

Larry handled the Royal Palm for nearly another month, along with the Tennessean every now and again. Over that month he had managed to stay out of trouble and was even given a couple of compliments along the way. Whether it was fortunate or not, Larry did not see Ingrid at all in that time span. Now he had hauling trains down to a science, he was fast, efficient, and gentle with his coaches. Now it was Independence Day weekend with the date in particular on a Sunday this year. Larry was confused by the insane amounts of American flags across the country side as he rolled back into Chattanooga on the Tennessean from Memphis. At Terminal Station the flags and banners were everywhere. He had seen this before the past few years but he never understood it so he asked Don what this was all about, and his driver replied in kind.

"Tomorrow is a very special day Larry, it's Independence Day, the day the United States declared ourselves an independent country from Great Britain."

"Britain, isn't that where railroads came from to begin with?" Larry asked.

"Yes, it seems General Motors taught you engines **something** after all." Don replied.

A little while later, Larry was at the new diesel shop in Citico Yard being serviced. He could hear some fans cheering loudly at nearby Engle Stadium, the local baseball field for the Chattanooga Lookouts, who were affiliated with the Washington Senators at the time. He was facing toward Lookout Mountain and to his far left, he could see a pair of Nashville, Chattanooga, &amp; St. Louis GP7s haul a long freight train. They gave him a greeting toot of the horn as they passed, as Larry blew his reply he heard a very loud crack of a wooden bat. It was a very distinctive sound, as was the sound of broken glass when a home run was blown into his headlight by the wind that goes around Lookout Mountain.

"Ow!" Larry yelped. "If this is how you people celebrate it count me out!" Don just laughed as he walked in front of his engine and picked up the baseball.

"You know what they say, finders keepers." He said as he showed the ball to Larry. Unfortunately, this little incident was enough to delay Larry from taking the Tennessean to Memphis, now one of the E7s was going to take it while Larry had been moved to take the Royal Palm to Atlanta, and then the Southerner to Washington. Naturally Larry was annoyed by this, it meant that he would have no sleep until he got to Atlanta, and worse still, what if Ingrid is there? She hasn't seen him in his new look yet and he feared that she would laugh at him. But, orders were orders, so Larry took what opportunity he had to sleep while the workmen replaced his headlight and oiled him up. Unfortunately, the sleep did last long, about an hour at best, for it was time for him to be out at the line again with the Royal Palm. Larry rushed off dozily out to Terminal Station, he found the train a couple of B units and Lamar waiting for him. Larry backed into the train just in time to hear the conductor give the clearance to leave. The signal on the other hand stayed red for a few minutes. Larry assumed that it was the daily freight train between Chattanooga and Atlanta, his thoughts ended on that and began on how he was going to explain his disposition to Ingrid, but try as he might he couldn't think of any ways to make excuses aside from the truth, that counted as an excuse didn't it? He started with a jump when Don blew his horn and looked up to find that he was moving under a green signal. Well, now was as good of a time as any to start thinking of excuses. All the way to Atlanta Larry thought, but try as he might, he just could not think of a believable excuse, heck Ingrid might just think that the color change as an excuse. He thought and he thought until he finally gave up as downtown Atlanta came into view. He noticed that the Silver Comet was not at Union Station, however, Louisville and Nashville's "Georgian" was there and the pair of gray, yellow faced E8s didn't even bother to look towards him when he greeted them as he passed. Larry always had a bad feeling about the engines from L&amp;N, it felt like they were always plotting something sinister. He always preferred the engines from the NC&amp;StL, more honest and straight forward.

A little later, Larry was in the servicing station waiting to take the overnight trip to Washington D.C. On the Southerner. A few tracks over, he saw a pair of L&amp;N Rs-3s talking to an NC&amp;StL GP7. The geep looked upset over something.

"You can't be telling the truth, why would we want to merge with you? You treat us like we're some sort of short line!" he said.

"Because seven-ten, L&amp;N already owns your line, and we have for a long time. It's only inevitable that you'd become one of us, but then again, you Dixie Liners will never be truly one of us." One Rs-3 spoke in a smug tone.

"I have a name you know." The geep retorted.

"That's right, you did, what was it? Kim? Bethany?" the other RS3 laughed.

"It's Timothy! And you're not taking our lines, and we don't want to be a part of you clowns."

"Oh but you will, whether you like it or not, it's only a matter of time..."

"Before Atlantic Coast Line absorbs **you** clowns." A voice butt in with a laugh. Timothy laughed too while the L&amp;N diesels scowled.

"Who said that?" One of them asked angrily.

"What's the matter? Scared that you're going to look like your E8 friends? Gray with faces that have been peed on? Are you trying to look adoptable to the coast line?" The voice asked again.

"Show yourself Dixie Line fool!"

"I would but my driver's no where to be seen for miles, you must've scared him away with how ugly you're going to be." Timothy laughed as he tracked the voice to Larry, who motioned him to not point him out yet with his lips. The Rs3s just growled and left, spewing tons of smoke as they did so. Larry laughed very hard when they were gone, he had forgotten about his problem with Ingrid and it was a good thing that she wasn't there, she would have slammed him hard for it. Timothy on the other hand was grateful for the help and he thanked Larry for it.

"My pleasure kid, but be warned, they weren't lying about L&amp;N taking over your line completely." Larry told him.

"I know, they were just rubbing it in my face. My name's Timothy in case you didn't hear earlier."

"I did, but I'll go with just Tim, it's a little more up to date." Larry replied.

"Tim? Okay, I like it, and you must be Larry. I know your brother Lamar, he says..." Tim started before an angry voice cut him off.

"That what you did was not necessary!" Larry looked over to find Lamar glaring at him. It was the first time he had seen Lamar angry at all, it would intimidate a J class if one knew him personally and saw him like this. Larry for one though was not going to have it this time.

"Come on Lamar, I'm under a lot of stress right now, I was just blowing smoke to cool myself off."

"Doesn't matter, you acted in a manner that is not acceptable to the Southern. Just think about what if Mister Debutts heard you, or Miss Ingrid. Both of them would have thrown the book at you, or worse." Lamar scolded. Now Larry remembered why he was stressing, how he was going to explain his missed date to her.

"Dangit Lamar you made me remember why I was stressing in the first place." He said.

"Too bad, you acted unprofessionally, I want you to apologize to those two engines the next time you see them." Lamar narrowed his glare at his brother. "I mean it Larry."

"Okay, okay, I'll apologize to 'em." Larry called out. Lamar stopped glaring and left to complete his journey on the Royal Palm.

"I've never seen your brother like that." Tim spoke up.

"I don't think anybody has." Larry replied.

Later that evening, Larry was still waiting in the yard for the Southerner to come into Terminal Station so that he can take over for the rest of the trip to Washington. In his haste to think of excuses to Ingrid he forgot that the following day was Independence Day, which meant that his train was going to be heavier than usual. Suddenly, Larry heard a distinctive horn, he looked around to find the Silver Comet approach Union Station, with Ingrid in the lead. Larry watches as she elegantly backed the train into the station, and then left it to go get fuel. _Well, now is as good a time as any to talk to her, better to get it over with._ Larry thought to himself. He took a deep breath as he roller over to the other side of the yard where Ingrid was being fueled. He stopped behind a freight car as he was parallel to her line, she couldn't see him because of this. Larry took a very deep breath and spoke up.

"Uh, Ingrid." He started. Ingrid looked around, surprised by the mysterious voice.

"Larry, is that you?" She asked.

"Yeah, it's me. I just wanted to talk to you about, well what happened a month ago." Larry replied.

"Oh yeah, what happened to you? I was surprised to see a consist of E6es instead of the guy I was supposed to race." Ingrid replied in a surprising cheerful manner. Well, at least she wasn't angry about it so Larry felt a little better.

"Well, I was going to come, but, uuhhhh-I was...sidelined...for a...um" Larry nervously replied.

"What happened?"

Larry took another deep breath and slowly rolled forward out from behind the freight car and under a yard light, which exposed his black paint. Ingrid gasped in shock, she couldn't believe her eyes.

"So it's true then..." She began. "Southern has gone cheap again."

"You knew?" Larry asked.

"I hadn't seen any Southern passenger engine as of late. I was in Florida for a little while and when Joyce told me about it I didn't believe her, but seeing it for myself now...

"You feel like you owe someone an apology?" Larry asked.

"Yeah, I guess I do owe her one." Ingrid replied.

"I guess now you don't want to hang out with me anymore."

"Larry, that is a load of boiler sludge, of course I want to hang out with you. Besides, I like the new look, it makes you look like you're wearing one of those tuxedo things that men wear to dances."

"Really?"

"Yeah, now come on, you still owe me that first date. And we'll have it in DC at the best time of the year for being their behind Christmas: Independence Day! We can see the fireworks from our roundhouse up there tomorrow night." And with that, Ingrid backed away excitedly to her train to take to the Nation's capital. The Southerner wasn't due to arrive in Atlanta for another hour so Larry had to sit back and watch as Ingrid pulled ahead into the night.

"I'll see you there." He said quietly.


	10. Chapter 10

**Fireworks [part 2]: **

_July 4__th__, 1956. Atlanta, Georgia:_

Larry had been determined to make it to the nation's capital for his date with Ingrid on Independence Day. He worked very hard, kept his complaints about black paint to himself, and volunteered to take the Southerner to DC at its heaviest time behind Christmas. Today was the day that he would take it and he was excited. He wasn't alone of course, a couple of B-units and one of his A unit siblings were also excited to take the northbound train. Of course they all wished they could go to New York where the most massive fireworks display was, but Larry didn't mind them, truth be told he kind of did too. It would have been the most wonderful experience for any engine from Dixieland railroads to go to the Big Apple for Independence Day, especially after hearing Pennsylvania and New York Central engines talk about it for hours on end, it seemed to be the one thing they agreed on. But Washington D.C. was a good enough substitute for the vast majority of engines southern lines that could reach it.

Larry waited eagerly at the head of the Southerner, the conductor had given him the clearance to leave five minutes ago but the signal remained at the "tracks are not clear" sign.

"Come on, we're gonna be late." He said impatiently.

"No we're not." One of the B units argued. "The passengers boarded several minutes early today astonishingly."

Larry considered the case, that is until he saw the freight train that was blocking the line coming from the other way, it was a pair of Central of Georgia SD9s carrying a pair of long, empty flatbeds. Larry was confused by this, why did it take two SD9s to pull two empty flatbeds? Was their load going to be very heavy? Or maybe one of the SDs had broken down and the other was just pulling it along, Larry didn't know, or did he have time to think about it, for as soon as they passed the line, the signal changed to all clear and he took off. There weren't many spots where the Southern crossed paths with Seaboard, so Larry knew his chances of actually seeing Ingrid were pretty slim until they got to D.C. Assuming that she would get there, most of the time Seaboard and Atlantic Coast Line got access to the nation's capitol via the Richmond, Fredricksburg, and Potomac Railroad who leaned more toward the Coast Line. Larry hoped to at least see Ingrid in one of the few spots where Seaboard and Southern met, but alas, that was not the case, in fact he didn't see anybody from Seaboard the entire trip. However, when he backed the Southerner into D.C.'s Union Station there she was, smiling broadly at his arrival. Larry grinned back as he came to a stop.

"I was beginning to think you had to take another train." Ingrid called out.

"Funny, I thought the same thing about you." Larry replied. Soon enough, Ingrid's driver climbed into her cab and her bell began to chime. It was a lovely tune, not insanely high pitch and not boringly low, just the way Larry liked it.

"I'll see you at the yard, we might be able to see the show from there." Ingrid said. Larry just tooted his horn in reply.

"Don't even think about it Buster, women are a dangerous breed." Came a voice, it was from Larry's current driver, of whom he couldn't remember the name of, and he really didn't care, he's had so many rotate on him that he lost track, and it wasn't just him. Most of Southern's main line engines had to deal with rotated crews, so much so that many of them weren't given names and never got to know the drivers they had. A real shame really, but there was nothing any of them could do, it was just the way the business was run. Larry just rolled his eyes and sighed.

"What would you know? You've never met Ingrid before." He replied.

"Trust me buddy, I was married twice, and both of my exes only wanted me for what money I've got and then dump me for some other rich bastard." The driver retorted. Larry scoffed in his mind, Ingrid has no use for money, so why would she dump him for that? From what he's witnessed, money only caused problems like his black paint replacing his green. He didn't understand the fact that the love of money is the root of all evil, and that's where the driver was coming from, nor did he understand that money was a necessary thing in everybody's lives.

Eventually he was moved to the nearby yard to be serviced. The yard was noisy with lots of engines from multiple railroads who were all excited for the upcoming fireworks display later that night. When Larry stopped his driver hopped off to clock out and get a hotel room for the night. Larry was filled and serviced for about thirty minutes when suddenly he felt his rear coupler lock up to another one and his brakes released.

"Excuse me Mister Foreman, but I need to borrow this guy for a little bit." Came the familiar voice of Ingrid, who had informed her driver of the plans. The foreman turned around, indicating that he was giving a blind eye. With a yard as big as this, romances were bound to be expected, and many engines fear for their lives because of it. But despite the possible risk, Ingrid gently towed Larry out of the yard and toward a siding near the Washington Channel with the Jefferson Memorial and Potomac River on the other side. With specially coordinated movements, Ingrid eventually was face to face with Larry and her smile was very wide. Larry cleared his throat, now that he was actually here with Ingrid his nerves became more obvious to himself. He gazed deep into Ingrid's eyes, they were like a bright blue fire that could set even the iciest of individuals ablaze with desire. Her fresh paint gleamed from the sun and reflected the nearby waters of the river. She was absolutely beautiful and Larry couldn't take his eyes off of her for one second. Suddenly he caught a hold of himself, now was not the time to be staring like a creep. Now was the time to strike up a conversation and hope it goes strong from there, but what would be a great ice breaker in this situation? Larry's eyes very quickly darted around to find something to talk about when he noticed a barge sailing into view. It's cargo contained a lot of cylinder shaped containers that could be held in a human hand. It had to have been the fireworks barge moving into position, bingo!

"I see the fireworks barge is moving into position." He said.

" Is it? I can't see." Ingrid replied.

"Maybe you should find somewhere to turn around so that you can see the show." Larry suggested.

"Oh I will in due time Larry, right now I just wanna talk for now."

"Well, okay. What would you like to talk about?"

"Let's start with some recent news I've heard. Is it true that somebody convinced your president to donate one of your Ps-4 steamers to the Smithsonian?"

That was an odd question, frankly Larry hadn't hear anything about his Ps-4 predecessors since their retirements in '53 except that almost all of them had been scrapped. He had heard rumors that the legal adviser convinced Debutts to spare one but he hadn't seen the engine at all so he didn't believe the rumors. And now there's a rumor that the engine is going to be donated to the big museum in DC? What in the world was going on here?

"Truth be told, I ain't heard nothing but rumors. I personally don't believe them, steam had its day." He replied. Ingrid's face fell into that of disappointment, unlike most diesels in general she really liked steam engines. She had strong friendships with steamers from whatever railroad she met and was deeply saddened by the early end of steam in the southern states. She figured southern conservatism would provide many steam engines refuge from the scrapper's torch for at least a few more years after northern and western railways but when the Southern Railway ended steam in '53 followed by Seaboard and Atlantic Coast Line her hopes of that were dashed. Larry noticed this and quickly wished for a do-over for a better choice of words.

"Oh, I'm sorry Ingrid. Had I known I would have..."

Ingrid stopped him in his tracks.

"No, no you're fine. I guess I was just too hopeful for survivors. It makes me wish I was never built." She went on sadly.

"Don't say that, the switch wasn't our doing, we can't influence anyone's decision no matter who we are. I learned that the hard way with Mister Debutts the first time I got in trouble, and when he gave me this boring paint job." Larry replied. Ingrid's smile returned a little.

"So what's it like to work for Seaboard? I bet you get to run around in Florida a lot." Larry asked.

"I do and I love it!" Ingrid replied with glee. "The weather is always nice even in rain, lots of beaches, and lots of easy going trains. What about the Royal Palm? Isn't that the train you normally take?" Ingrid asked.

"If I could describe the train in one sentence it would be this one: Don't take it to Ohio during winter." Larry replied. Ingrid snickered with the idea of giant rolling icicles. They chat like this until darkness began to fall, at that point Ingrid was turned around and moved next to Larry. She had just stopped when the first firecracker was launched from the barge she almost jumped off the rails from the loud bang, Larry laughed at this until Ingrid glared at him, her glare turned into a grin however and she laughed as well. The fireworks were gorgeous, a wide variety of colors and explosion sizes. Larry felt something warm rub up against his face, Ingrid had snuggled up to Larry with a very soft moan of enjoyment. If she could see the faint redness in Larry's face she would have done it even more just to mess with him. Larry didn't know what to do, he frantically rushed options around in his mind and every idea he came up with were unnecessarily unkind until finally he got the one thing he could do. He snuggled his face into her side, he didn't know what to expect in the way of Ingrid's reaction. Ingrid giggled a little and relieved her pressure on Larry's face as another firecracker exploded in a brilliant purple. Ingrid asked if he had any idea what the two of them were doing and Larry had no clue and it led to laughter for both of them. Then Larry noticed something, there was a young couple not too far away from him on a rooftop, he noticed the young woman turn the man's face towards her and she did something that Larry had never seen before. Their lips touched one another and remained in contact for a long time. Larry was confused by this, why would the humans do that? He didn't know the meaning of a kiss and the significance of it but his curiosity. He than decided that he wanted to try it just to see what all the fuss was about. But he believed it would be weird to just simply ask Ingrid to try it with him, after all, this is their first true date and everything was going fine so why ruin the moment? What Larry didn't know was that Ingrid had also noticed the couple, and this was one of the few things of dating she knew full well after hearing about it so often from her friends and even one of her sisters. She then devised a plan, she was going to show him why humans did it rather than tell. Ingrid's driver who had not left the cab at all gently patted the cab side and quietly informed her that the grand finale was approaching. Oh what a chance, Ingrid quietly told him her plan while Larry was still distracted by the couple upon the roof. Ingrid quickly moved to the position she was sitting before the show began, Larry was so distracted that he did not notice Ingrid's move until she said his name. When Larry looked where the sound came from he jumped, who knew Ingrid was stealthy? Ingrid bore a smile that screamed that she was up to something and she looked very excited to do it.

"What?" Larry asked after he recovered himself. Ingrid's response was to thrust herself forward and give him a long kiss. Larry's eyes popped wide open, everything became so clear in his mind and he did not want it to stop. Ingrid gently pulled herself away from it and nearly burst out laughing after seeing the look on his face. Larry did not respond, he was too shocked to say or do anything. Ingrid gently nuzzled up her forehead against his.

"Did you enjoy it?" She asked. Larry could only give a goofy "uh huh" for a response, and Ingrid smiled at him. She they slowly moved in and kissed him again, this time it was more passionate, and slow to let the feeling sink in. As the finale began, Larry soon figured out what to do and kissed back in a similar fashion. It was the most wonderful feeling he ever had in his life. The two kissed until the finale ended and the cheers of the crowd were heard. Ingrid's driver decided that now would be a good time to bring the two of them back to the yard. Fortunately for them, the diesels that were present in the yard were busy chatting among themselves to really notice the two of them...well, except for one. Lamar just so happened to be in town being serviced to take The Pelican out of DC and when he saw Larry's lovesick expression with a small faint kiss mark on his cheek and Ingrid's smile, he put the pieces together very easily.

"Well done little brother, let's just hope this goes better than the love I had" He said quietly with a hopeful smile.


	11. Chapter 11

**Objects at Sea: **

_July 5__th__, 1956. Washington D.C.:_

"Psst, Larry."

"Larry..."

"**Larry!**"

"Sheesh, he's really out of it. What did they do to him?"

"Did they give him moonshine?"

"Will you stop with dat? Dat is nothing more dan a legend!"

Larry groaned as his eyes slowly opened at the irritating sound of voices. The morning sun glared brightly into his sleepy eyes and forced him to keep them as closed as possible disturbing his slumber.

"Oh finally! He's waking up." One of the voices declared.

"What? What do you guys want?" Larry asked, still unable to see very well.

"Larry we've been trying to wake you up for the past ten minutes, you have a train to take!" One voice spoke up, it sounded like one of the switchers.

"So get off your back side and get to work ya lazy bum!"

Larry knew that one, it was Joe. What was he doing here? Didn't he have his own trains to take?

"You're one to talk Joe." Larry retorted as he revved his engine up. "Besides, my engineer ain't here yet." And speak of the devil, Larry's engineer burst through the door, panting.

"Oh good, you haven't left me behind! Come on let's get a move on!" He slurred as he rushed into the cab. Larry slowly pulled out of the shed into the sunlight and he heard some laughing from the other engines.

"What? What's so funny?" Larry asked, his vision had cleared now and there were three engines in front of him, Joe, and two yard switchers and they all had a snicker on their face.

"Where'd you get the time to go smooch'n someone?" One switcher asked. The other two made kissy faces and sound effects in mockery. There was a puddle of water from the wash rack and that's when Larry finally saw the kiss mark on his cheek that went red from underneath the black and white paint. There wasn't time to wash it off and Larry didn't tell his driver about it as it was the same one that told him to stay away from women. Fortunately he was supposed to be at the back of the locomotive consist, he was to take the Crescent down to Atlanta, rest a bit, and then take the Royal Palm down to Jacksonville. The other engines were waiting in the yard to connect to him before the train and they snickered at him as well, it was worth the wait to have seen him with that. At the station however most people didn't seem to notice. Larry held himself as quiet and as still as possible yet the minutes felt like hours. When was the signal going to change? When will the conductor give the go ahead? What will Mr. Debutts say if he saw Larry like this? All kinds of scenarios flew Larry's mind at lightning speed, and then suddenly he almost jumped when he heard an excited little girl's voice.

"Mommy look! That one has a kiss on his cheek!"

Larry's cheeks burned redder than ever before and he subtly bit his lip as he tried to look away. It didn't help that he heard the quiet laughter of his siblings and some of the passengers that have yet to board the train, he could even hear his engineer laughing from the cab as he barely managed to hear the kid. Oh why was he back there? Wasn't he supposed to be up front where he couldn't hear a dad gummed thing?

"Now Suzy it's not polite to point, even at trains." The mother told the child who then apologized, not that it helped Larry's current disposition. He put on a fake smile and sighed as the two walked away. The child skipped happily and Larry could hear her singing a little rhyme.

"_Be wary young sailor _

_of wind and high water. _

_The sea has a secret._

_The sea has a daughter. _

_She'll swim along starboard._

_And capture our heart._

_With a flip of her tail-fin. _

_Underwater, depart._"

Larry was perplexed by that little rhyme but his thoughts were soon brought back to the subtle chuckling of everyone around him. He was indeed relieved when the train finally got moving, away from the crowds and chuckling engines that he passed. The trip itself was rather lack luster, just hours of rolling on the rails, with the usual annoyance of Norfolk and Western steam engines except for Molly, whom Larry hasn't heard from since the incident at the sheds. There were rumors that she had an early retirement, but it was more likely that her crew had wrecked her as the J class crews were known to do.

"_How unfortunate would that be? Wrecked by foolhardy crews who make their engine go well above the speed limit, she should be retired and cut up peacefully."_ Larry thought.

He had been taught that the most respectful end to a steam engine was the scrapper's torch and those who fought to stay useful were fools. But no engine would wish the death on another caused by a wreck as it was often incredibly painful and slow. Of course the torch is even worse but Larry didn't know that, nor did most other diesels at the time. As Larry continued his thoughts through the Virginia night, he noticed a pair of amber eyes following his train. He assumed it was one of the N&amp;W J classes, despite how nervous they seemed from his point of view. His assumption was correct as a rather downcast J class slowly pulled out into the Lynchburg station lights. Molly sighed as she watched the train exit Union Station and pulled in herself. Ever since that kidnapping she had been completely terrified of the Southern Railway diesels and hoped all this was just really long bad dream. But reality is never kind if you hope for anything, that she knew. Anyway, the Crescent traveled all night with no issue to which Larry was thankful, the Georgia morning was lovely as usual as the train pulled into Atlanta. The consist was taken off the train to allow the Atlanta &amp; West Point to take it Alabama for the L&amp;N, an arrangement that Larry thought was pointless, why should some back water line from Kentucky that doesn't even take care of their own infrastructure and equipment properly take something that is a Southern train to New Orleans when the Southern can do it already via the route The Southerner takes? The arrangement was stupid to Larry but it wasn't his decision to make. At least he got to have a full day's rest before he had to take the Royal Palm down to Jacksonville and this time he was going to lead the train.

"Excuse me Larry but what does this have to do with your relationship with Ingrid?" Bethany Garner asked as she was writing the story down.

"Not a lot, this story is the start of a mystery that haunts me to this day. For you see that night in Jacksonville rumors started to pop up of an engine that had been acquired from some scrap yard in Georgia somewhere and moved to the port to be shipped out to the buyers overseas." Larry began.

"The southern had to cross bridge to get to the yard and the station that crosses the St. Johns River and I've seen some strange things on that bridge and this night was the first truly strange thing."

Larry was leading the Royal Palm with Lamar and two B units into Jacksonville, Florida. His face had been wiped clean of the kiss mark after a bit of mockery from his engineer who clearly thought the whole thing was hilarious. Larry was relieved to find that he was just teasing when he said women were trouble and offered a few tips of how to truly romance with Ingrid. It was late afternoon when they reached the bridge, despite the bridge being double track it was still narrow, nearly impossible for someone to stand on the edge without being hit by a train or fall off dodging the train. The river was a direct link to the Atlantic Ocean and thus there is a lot of sea life. Larry has seen dolphins in the past and always found them to be funny animals. As the norm for safety's sake, Larry had to lead the train slowly and he was okay with that. After all it did give him his favorite sight, seeing boats sail around on the sparkling water. Unfortunately there weren't a lot of boats in close proximity today for it was strangely misty that day, so Larry decided to whistle the sailor's hornpipe a little bit as he crawled forward. About half way across he heard something that almost made him jump. It sounded like a young woman laughing quietly, but there was nobody around that he could see.

"Uhhh, hello?" He called out. "Is someone there?"

"Nothing but a fairy tale, young male." Came the voice with a giggle.

"HA! H-okay, joke's over, come out to where I can see you." Larry replied with a hint of nerves to him. He was expecting a young couple to sail a little speed boat out from behind the far end of the bridge as part of a silly prank.

"If you insist, from your starboard bow I will come out from my mist."

Larry knew little of nautical terms so he shifted his eyes frantically along the water. Suddenly he saw a woman breach the surface, but she looked a little strange for a human, not that Larry could put his wheel on what about her. Her hair was blue, yet her skin was the same as most other humans Larry sees around the south, her eyes sparkly green eyes looked deep into his own, and she swam backwards at a pace that kept up with him with seemingly no effort. Larry could only see her head and shoulders as the water was too dark to see anything else.

"Excuse me ma'am but what's the idea pranking an engine on a narrow bridge? And in deep fog too, don't you realize you can get yourself killed that way by a boater that can't see very well?" Larry asked, annoyed.

"I'm sorry for the fear you have been stricken, I had no idea I was teasing a giant chicken." The woman replied with a grin.

"Well I hope you are sor-**hey!**"

The woman laughed loudly while Larry's eyes narrowed. Without warning, Larry blared his horn loudly and made the woman jump half way up the water, she was wearing a strange bikini top, they looked like sea shells, she was also fairly toned from what Larry could tell from some bikini posters he had seen as advertisements. The woman fell back into the water and glared as Larry laughed.

"Who's the chicken now?"

The woman dropped her glare and smiled, he did get her good she had to admit.

"A fine scare it was, almost reveal myself you did cause."

"You're already revealed, what are you talking about?

"Not what you are thinking, and my time to talk is shrinking."

Larry gazed up to find that he was coming close to shore on the other side, and when he glanced back down the woman was gone. Suddenly he felt something press against his side, it felt like the kiss he received from Ingrid, but much smaller. He looked to his right and saw the woman diving back into the water, but what Larry saw on her made his eyes widen and his mouth drop, and it stayed that way even after she splashed back into the water laughing until she vanished without a trace. Larry was left completely speechless, he didn't even respond when Lamar called to him. A little while later in the service yard, Lamar finally got Larry to talk to him.

"Lamar, have you ever seen a human...with a fish tail?" Larry asked.

"What do you mean, did she have a fish tail between her legs or...?"

"No, she didn't have legs at all, just the fish tail... like a fish was eating her legs"

"What in the world? I have never heard of such a nonsense, you probably saw a dolphin."

"Well, she touched my side too before she disappeared into the water, and she spoke english in rhyme too."

"That is strange, maybe you've been too mystified by your lovely night with Ingrid to think straight." Lamar suggested. Larry's cheeks turned red at this and he glared at his brother.

"And who said you can spy on me?"

"I didn't, when you came back to the shed with that kiss mark on your face and an expression that said you were on cloud nine I was able to put two and two together." Lamar replied calmly. Larry snorted.

"Anyway..." Lamar continued. "Have you been hear'n the rumors lately?"

"What rumors?" Larry asked, and then another voice chimed in. It was one of the Florida East Coast E8's, whose name Larry could never remember.

"There's a story go'n around that some European bought a steam engine from Georgia." He said. "Rumor has it that the engine is going to be shipped overseas to some island off of England that's supposed to be a safe haven for 'em."

"Okay now that's preposterous, steam is on it's way out and from what I hear not even the tiny switchers can fit in the UK anyway, something about them being too wide or something." Larry scoffed.

"That's what I thought until early this morn'n when I was visiting a friend in the port. I saw her size under a tarmac, she ain't no switcher, she's a main line engine for sure." The engine replied.

"Were you able to tell what kind of engine it was?" Lamar asked with interest.

"If I had to guess, it's probably one of Atlantic Coast Line's R1 class engines. I didn't see enough of the shape to truly tell."

"Their northern types?" Larry asked.

"yes."

"That won't end well, that's much too big for the tiny British loading gauges." Lamar protested.

"That may be, but it's the buyer's decision, and he'll have to live with the consequences, for better or worse." The FEC diesel stated.


End file.
